It's Not Race When Greed Is Motive

September 21, 2005|By STAN SIMPSON

In a span of four days, the former Bridgeport state senator universally known as ``Ernie'' evolved from claims of persecution to a plea deal avoiding prosecution.

Tuesday in Bridgeport's federal court, Ernest E. Newton II plead guilty to felony charges that he solicited and accepted a $5,000 bribe; misused about $40,000 in campaign and other funds; and evaded taxes. He will be sentenced Dec. 19.

Newton, who has blamed everyone but himself for his problems, was no victim. He was a violator and the latest in an assembly line of state politicians who've tried to justify setting a little aside for themselves because of the supposed good deeds they've done in their community.

If statements outside the courthouse by U.S. Attorney Kevin O'Connor are any indication, don't bet on Newton, 49, being the last public official to go down.

``We made it very clear that our work in Bridgeport is not done,'' O'Connor said, referring to statements he made after ex-Bridgeport Mayor Joseph Ganim was convicted of corruption two years ago. Blunting previous suggestions from Newton that the charges against him were racially motivated, O'Connor said: ``Public corruption comes in all shapes and colors and party affiliations.''

Charles Bennett has known Newton for 20 years. He came to court to show support for his friend. But after the proceedings he was clearly disappointed in what he heard.

``I'm mad at him,'' Bennett said. ``He's done so much for this city and been there for so many people. I think this really hurts the city of Bridgeport real bad. The embarrassment and attention makes us look bad, and makes Ernie look bad, too.''

For Newton, pleading early was a smart move -- his only move, really. He has financial problems. His wife has health problems. The federal government has wiretaps. It was time to get into Bob Barker mode, make a deal, hope for a short stint in the pen, then regroup.

One thing Newton is going to have to work on before the Dec. 19 sentencing is contrition. An apology would go a long way.

In front of Judge Alan Nevas, Newton was somber, polite and accommodating as he repeated: ``I plead guilty, your honor,'' to each of the three counts.

Outside of the courtroom and in front of the microphones, Newton was defiant. He once again deflected blame to the media for what he said was overblown coverage and ignored the fact that he publicly conceded guilt on three felony counts.

The most egregious of his crimes was ``soliciting and accepting'' a $5,000 bribe, during the heat of the John Rowland impeachment hearings, to steer state bond money to a Bridgeport nonprofit.

While some supporters may see that as ``serving his constituents,'' in the real world it's known as putting your office up for sale. And that usually means you go to prison.

Judge Nevas likely will weigh the timing of Newton's crime very heavily. And if Newton is still in denial about the severity of his offenses -- they carry maximum prison times from 5 to 20 years -- and who's to blame, he could come off as remorseless.

The Ernie Newton story -- precocious street kid and accomplished pianist who experienced the highs of being a city and state politicians and the lows of being a cocaine addict and now a felon -- is one of resilience, ego and stubbornness.

In his 17-year legislative career he was known as a gregarious, impassioned advocate for the oppressed and as a man who fought off his own personal demons to rise to the highest level of state politics.

Newton is unapologetically black -- an advocate and fighter for the empowerment of African Americans and the stamping out of racism and poverty. Even his enemies respected him for his fervor.

But in this case, race didn't do Newton in -- greed did.

Stan Simpson's column appears Wednesdays and Saturdays. He can be reached at ssimpson@courant.com